


An Ever Fixed Mark

by My_words_fly_up



Series: An Ever Fixed Mark [4]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, Falling In Love, Harry Styles - Freeform, Louis Tomlinson - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 05:05:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10892289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_words_fly_up/pseuds/My_words_fly_up





	An Ever Fixed Mark

February was proving to be as wet and dismal as January. However, once Harry came to stand in the doorway he was reminded that there was still color in a world seemingly devoid of it; Louis Tomlins was ever sunlight despite the rain.

Louis did not hear him enter. He stood at the window, his hands clasped behind his back. He looked much the same as he had that morning when Harry had helped him dress for a meeting, wearing a stylish double-breasted morning coat and Angola trousers. The season had yet to officially begin, but a style was already emerging. Louis had been adamant about keeping the fronts intentionally unbuttoned, the new fashion. As he took any opportunity to observe the gentleman before him, he did so now, laughing when his eyes landed on Louis' bare feet.

“Ethel stripped you of your shoes before you dirtied up her floors, did she?”

Louis spun around, his blue eyes especially bright. He crossed the room and closed the door behind Harry, a smile on his lips. “She could have stripped me of my trousers and I would not have cared!”

“Is that so? That I'd like to see,” Harry chuckled. “However, a meeting with a...clerk, was it? How could that have put you in such a good mood?”

“He is my father's accountant. Well, I suppose mine as well, as he handles my accounts and properties, and he most unknowingly gave me the perfect reason to steal away with you!”

“Steal away?”

“Harry, how would you like to go on holiday in the country with me?”

“Now? Isn't your family in the country? I know you said they would be returning soon with season starting...”

“They are in the country, but they are at the family manor.” Louis stepped towards Harry, resting his head with familiar ease against Harry's chest. “They are not in Buckinghamshire, where I have a little house. It is nothing extravagant to be certain, it was left to me by a second uncle who had no sons of his own. In truth I actually forgot about it, as I only visited it a few times in my youth.”

“How nice indeed it is, to forgot about a house, no matter how drab!”

Louis pulled back, frowning. “I did not...Harry, I did not mean to sound so-”

“I was only teasing, Louis! Go on, tell me of your plan, and smile as happily as you were before I made a lame joke.”

Louis bit his lip, attempting to smile. “An older woman tends to the house a few days a week, and a letter was sent to the accountant. It seems as if the roof is in need of some repair, and my accountant wished to discuss the cost with me before proceeding. And without even knowing, he gave me a great excuse to visit the house myself!”

“For how long?”

Louis took Harry's hand in his own. “I know this is no permanent solution. The most I dare is two weeks.  With season starting and Easter next month, I cannot go any longer. But I would do anything for some time alone with you.”

 _Some time alone._  Since Christmas, time had passed by in a blur of carefully orchestrated rendezvous (as Harry named them), when schedules permitted. If Verity remained at home, they would venture out in the dreary weather. If she went out, Louis would send Alfred out on errands to keep him away as long as possible. Harry felt sorry for the old servant, who must think he was being punished, without ever guessing the true reason why his master should suddenly take the new valet into his confidence. “What of Alfred?”

“I will have affairs in London that will need attention. He shall remain here, of course.”

There _had_ been more time together since Louis' hopeful words to make it so. But still, their lives revolved around stolen moments that would otherwise not have been. When Harry had been at Hartwick House they had certainly enjoyed more leisurely time together, but at a cost. And now with season fast approaching Harry was reminded of how little he had seen Louis during that time last year and was grateful that he would see him this time. _Despite everything, at least we are under the same roof._ Still, there were days when it was difficult not to lament in their current plight. “I want for nothing more than to be with you, Louis.”

Louis kissed him. In these moments it all seemed so easy. Nothing else mattered and any struggle was worth it, if only for the time when both were free. When they finally parted, Louis was still smiling. “If we want to leave tomorrow we best start packing now.”

 

 

 

 

 

Harry Stiles had never seen England's countryside. Now that he was here he could scarcely believe his eyes. How beautiful this land beyond the city was, with rolling hills, never-ending pastures, and quaint little towns of brick cottages and smoking chimneys.

“Why would anyone leave this beauty in exchange for London!” Harry had exclaimed at the first sight of forestry.

“Most complain of boredom. So far removed, people have little to gossip about.”

Harry watched in wonder as the hills passed by, the horses of Louis' carriage traveling at a speed he had never felt before. “We are flying, aren't we, Louis?”

The journey north took a little over five hours and by the afternoon they slowed their pace as they came upon a narrow gravel path. All at once the sun seemed to reveal itself from behind the gray clouds in order to shine upon a two-level house of gray stone and a blue door.

“Louis! How could you dismiss this splendid house?”

“You have not even seen the inside.”

“I don't need to. I know we will be alone here and I already know I shall love it.”

The little cottage stood alone at a hillside, with a thick patch of woods not far behind. The stone exterior was shiny under the sunlight, the little glass windows sparkling.

No sooner had the carriage stopped that a plump older woman came bounding towards it.

“Oye, Mr. Tomlins? Is that really you, all grown up?” The woman's accent was not like anything Harry had ever heard.

Louis slipped out of the carriage, motioning for Harry to do the same. “Hello, Miss Tellman.”

“I couldn't believe me ears when I heard you were coming. I hope my letter did not cause alarm about the roof and all, James has been repairing it best he can, but it's been real rainy again this year and it looks like we will be needing more wood.”

“It is not problem at all, Miss Tellman. I trust that I have some beds that are still dry?”

She giggled at his smile. “No leaks this morning, I made sure James did a thorough check, but I can't promise what the morrow may bring.”

Harry and the carriage driver set about removing the luggage that had been packed in some hurry. There was no doubt in his mind that Louis' shirts would be wrinkled, but he could not admit to Alfred that he was little trained in packing.

“Would you like some tea, Mr. Tomlins? After I got your letter I was in a tizzy getting things ready, but I did not forget you need to eat! I have left you enough bread to feed an army, and each morning I will have James deliver you eggs and meat for your day.”

“Thank you, Miss Tellman, I would love some tea.”

Harry followed Louis as he went through the charming blue door, allowing for his eyes to adjust to the darkness as he entered.

The room smelled of lavender, the wood floors scuffed but beautiful in their age. The few rooms on the first level were small and cozy, the logs crackling under a small fire. The furniture was old, but well-mended. Harry loved it.

Louis followed Miss Tellman to a kitchen, the only room with a table, and accepted a cup of tea from a cracked porcelain cup. She insisted he sit, and once he did, she slid a plate of biscuits in front of him. “Careful dear, they are hot. But delicious, if I do say so meself.”

Harry grinned as he left Louis eating one and discussing the roof repairs as he carried the luggage up a narrow staircase to the second level where the bedrooms were. The two rooms were separated by a small partition, each with little wood bedpost and piled with blankets. One room had a desk and chair, the other two chairs. The windows were grainy, but he could still see a glimpse of the greenery through them. He forgot at once about unpacking when he spotted a bookshelf. He was delighted to see a new variety of books he had never read and pulled one off the shelf. He blew the dust off its jacket and saw that it was a book of poems by William Shakespeare.

Harry sat down and flipped through the pages, becoming so lost in the words of love and loss that he started when Louis came into the room holding a candlestick.

“To think, you were up here reading all the while! I fear I ate more than my share of those biscuits, but Miss Tellman has promised to make more for us tomorrow.”

Harry grinned. “Has Miss Tellman taken her leave then?”

“Yes. She and my driver are gone. It is just you and I, if you care to know.”

“Whatever shall we do?”

“I can think of something.”

“But you have not given me a proper tour!”

“You have seen it all, dear.” Louis leaned against the arm rests of the chair, taking the book and pausing as he read the cover. “You have never read these sonnets?”

“No.”

“Shall I let you continue? Far be it for me to interrupt.”

Harry stretched out his legs and wrapped them around Louis. “There will be time tomorrow to read them, I think.”

Louis laughed as he fell against Harry in the armchair. His mouth was just at Harry's ear, and it was there he put his lips. “We have all the night to ourselves, and more, Harry. If only I had known about this sooner.”

“All that does matter is now.” Harry looked down into glistening blue eyes. “I do have one question, dear.”

“What is that?”

“However will the two of us fit in that tiny bed?”

Louis laughed heartily. “I think we shall find a way.”

 

 

 

 

Louis slept peacefully and soundly. The wool sheets seemed to hug his body perfectly, and Harry took this moment to relish in the fact that he had risen before Louis.

It was no surprise, considering the ungodly hour they had gone to sleep the night before. They had eaten every biscuit in the house, a jar of jam, and two thick loaves of bread smothered in honey. The empty plates were still scattered about the floor, where they had enjoyed their late night picnic.

Harry wrapped himself in a blanket and padded to the window. The whole land seemed to twinkle in the morning dew as if illuminated by magic. Harry would not have been surprised to see a fairy spring from a blooming flower. Was this little house so magical?

He turned his gaze from the countryside to the man on the bed.

How the two of them had slept so comfortably was beyond him. They had even managed to wrestle, which had started in boyish good fun, and turned to something else when Louis pinned Harry quite unfairly against the bed and covered him in warm kisses. When Harry closed his eyes he could still feel them against his skin. When Harry considered how many nights like this were stolen from them, simply because it had been deemed unlawful to act upon such wants, it pained him. _No, I will not think of time gone, but time ahead._ He slid carefully onto the bed so as not to disturb Louis. From this vantage point, Harry could study the longest, most beautiful lashes he had ever seen.

Eventually the eyelashes began to flutter, and without knowing that he was being watched, Louis smiled as he stirred.

“Good morning, my sweet.” Harry said, nuzzling against Louis' ear. In London, when they shared Louis' bed, it was difficult to relax. Even with the door locked, noises downstairs could be heard. Here, time did not seem to matter, and for the first time since Harry had left Hartwick House, the two could lay together without fear. It was a most convenient thing that Louis should bring his valet with him on his spontaneous but explainable venture into the country.

Louis wrapped his arms around Harry, their exposed bare skin warm to the touch. “I dreamed of you, Harry Stiles. Now I must wonder, is all of this a dream?”

“A wonderful dream,” Harry agreed, leaning his head against Louis' chest. “How long shall we lie here?”

“As long as we want. Until the end of time. But would that be long enough?” Just then Louis' stomach growled. “Or until we need breakfast.”

“Breakfast? How can you be hungry after all that we ate last night?”

"You helped me work up an appetite and I am on a holiday, after all!" Louis sat up and stretched. “Miss Tellman said James would bring eggs and meat.”

“I nearly forgot! Louis, we cannot be laying about like this when he arrives-”

“He is simply going to drop off the items in the kitchen. He is not going to come up her, nor is he one for making conversation. He is a mute.”

Harry had jumped from the bed in a frantic search for clothes. “A mute?”

“Yes. He will not be here to gossip, by any means. Miss Tellman said he would drop off the food and leave. If we need anything more, I can leave him a note that he will take to her.”

Harry dropped his trousers. “I suppose you were not wrong when you said we would go undisturbed.”

“What would you like to do today, Harry? If it is not raining, there is a little lake, though I am not sure I can find it again.”

“That does sound lovely.” Harry leaned in for a kiss. “But not yet. There is only one thing I wish to do at the moment.”

Louis leaned against the pillow. “Only one?”

“Well...perhaps several. We best be quiet though. You did say James was mute, but I doubt that he is also deaf.”

“I shall try to be quiet dear, but I cannot make any promises.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

For the next ten days, Harry Stiles felt as if he were living in a dream. _Better than a dream._ Even the weather cooperated in this idyllic little place. He imagined that it was still raining in dreary London, but here the countryside was full of sunshine. It did not matter that it was still chilly, as long as the gray days were left somewhere else.

They stayed up late and slept in through the morning. They ate way too much and took long walks through the hillside. Louis refused to shave, and a light brown stubble grew on his chin and cheeks, which Harry found very becoming. They found a lake, though it was not the same one Louis remembered. They kicked off their shoes and went knee deep into the water, splashing and searching out tadpoles, though their teeth were chattering when they were done. At night they caught fireflies and read books by the fire until their eyes crossed.

The bed was their haven. Even if their leisurely activities had drained them of energy, the true paradise in the country was their bodies. They did not hurry, they did not fear intrusion. This holiday would end, they both knew, but not even that notion could touch them here.

Harry was curled in the chair with a book, naked under his robe. Louis was in the bed, nibbling on one of Miss Tellman's delicious biscuits. That particular indulgence had become slightly more apparent on Louis' little belly, but Harry resisted teasing him, knowing Louis would realize all too soon when he tried to squeeze into one of his newly tailored suits.

A light rain had begun that evening, which was soothing as it fell in rhythmic patterns against the roof. Only once had the roof sprung a leak, and they had caught the drips in a bowl.

“Louis!” Harry cried as he finished reading the latest sonnet in one of the Shakespeare collections he had found. “I have just read the most beautiful thing and I am not even certain if it is supposed to be beautiful, but I find it to be.”

Louis licked a crumb from his finger and sat the empty plate aside. “Which one is it?”

“I will read it to you first.” Harry cleared his throat. “' _Let me not to the marriage of_

_true minds,_

_Admit impediments. Love is not love._

_Which alters when it alteration finds,_

_Or bends with the remover to remove._

_O no! it is an ever-fixed mark_

_That looks on tempests and is never shaken;_

_It is the star to every wand'ring bark,_

_Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken._

_Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks_

_Within his bending sickle's compass come;_

_Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,_

_But bears it out even to the edge of doom._

_If this be error and upon me prov'd,_

_I never writ, nor no man ever lov'd.'”_

Harry let the open book rest against his chest and waited.

“Sonnet 116.”

“Lucky guess.” Harry smiled. “Tell me, what do you make of it?”

“Whether the author wanted it, it has found him. He may be protesting...perhaps not. But he recognizes what it is.”

“And what is it?”

“A most powerful love. No matter where you go, it cannot be shaken. Time cannot change it. Nothing can.”

Harry let the book fall as he went to the bed. He stared into Louis blue eyes. “Nothing?”

“Nothing.” Louis took Harry's face in his hands. “I love you, Harry. You are my ever-fixed mark.”

Harry grinned like a fool.   _The first time I have ever heard him say it._   “And you, Louis, are mine.”

 

 

 

 

 

“The water is bloody freezing!” The sunlight had made the lake water deceptively inviting, but still, Harry had committed and forced himself to go in. “You must join me, Louis! You promised you would swim with me before we departed!”

Louis was on the shore, laughing. He had removed his shoes, but was refusing to go deeper than his ankles. “Perhaps when the water is warmer!”

“Did I say it was freezing? I meant to say it is as warm as your baths!”

“Liar!” Louis called. “Do come out before you turn into an icicle!”

Harry had been determined to swim, for that was something he had never done in all his life and he longed for it. But his teeth were soon chattering and Louis and dry clothes awaited him.

He emerged from the water in only his undergarments and Louis quickly wrapped him in a blanket. “I hope you have gotten this out of your system now.”

“Not until you teach me how to properly swim.”

Louis pushed a dripping lock of hair from Harry's eyes. “We will come back. I know...I know we only have a few night's left. I can easily tell my family I wish to make some upgrades, all I need do is get through the season and then we can come here again.”

Harry nodded, suddenly distracted. _Was that...no, it couldn't be._

“The season should pass by quickly, it always does and...Harry, what are you looking at?”

Harry squinted, trying to find what he had just seen in the distance. It had disappeared behind a hill, but when it re-emerged his heart sank. “A carriage!”

“No,” Louis breathed. “Peter would never return early, never.”

“Maybe it is someone lost.”

“Or not.” Louis glanced to Harry. “We should get back.”

They rushed along the road, Harry dripping wet and Louis still carrying his shoes. They hurried into the house and Harry, more concerned with the dishes they had left out, attempted to hide them as Louis rushed up the stairs.

“Leave it, Harry! You are in only your undergarments, you must get dressed!”

Harry combed back his hair and pulled on slacks and his shirt in record time.

“Damn!” Louis had been leaning over the window when he cursed. “I cannot...why on earth...dammit! Will you help me with my shoes, Harry?”

Louis was dressed in loose slacks and a wrinkled shirt that was not buttoned to his neck, but Harry quickly helped him into a long day-time coat. “Who is it, Louis?” Harry asked, though he was certain of the answer.

A knock sounded as Louis' face dropped. He closed his eyes and took a breath. “Will you run that comb through my hair?”

Harry did, quickly. _Your hair is always perfect, Louis._ “Done.”

Doubtful, Louis attempted to fix a few strands as he hurried down the steps and Harry followed him. As he went to the door, Harry shoved as many dishes as he could into the pantry.

“Winnifred!” Louis' voice had changed. Cheer had never sounded so forced, and a name had never sounded to ugly to Harry.

“Surprise, Louis!” Her greeting was smooth and confident.

Thankfully they did not use the bottom level of the house for much, so with the dishes out of view it did not look much different from when they arrived, but it suddenly felt very crowded as Winnifred von Parma and her frilly red dress came into the room. Her hair fell in thick curls around her delicate face. Every time Harry set his eyes on her he remembered how pretty she was. Despite upturned pink lips, the smile she wore was false as she eyed the room. “I could not believe it myself when your mother told me that you had come to the country. It has been so many years, I thought you forgot how to find it!” She laughed prettily.

Louis Tomlins was a well-trained gentleman and his laugh would sound genuine to anyone who did not truly know him. “It has been long, hasn't it?”

“She mentioned the house needed repair? I can see why you came yourself, it is quite dreadful! You poor thing, how have you been sleeping here, Louis?”

“It is quite comfortable. I am almost done seeing to the repairs.”

Winnifred's face was skeptical. She walked past Louis and eyed the kitchen. She never looked at Harry. “I am parched from the ride...”

“Would you like some tea?” Louis asked.

“Yes, please.”

Louis nodded, giving a quick order to Harry for tea. “The lady likes her tea with two sugars,” he gave the order, almost apologetically.

Harry bowed and prepared the tea. Winnifred never requested any for the women she had left outside. _That would require her to think of someone beside herself for two minutes._

Louis pulled out a chair at the table and Winnifred sat, Louis taking the chair across from her. Winnifred's nose pinched in distaste as Harry poured their tea.

“Did you forget your razor, Louis?” She asked, scrunching up her nose.

Louis shook his head. “No, I have just been busy, tending to the house.”

“I bet you are eager to get back to London,” she said, as if Louis had not said that he was comfortable. “My Aunt Cecily's house is only an hour from here. Had I known you were so close, I would have insisted you sleep there.”

“How is Cecily?”

“Bored out of her mind and eager for season! I just was visiting her this morning and realized it was a perfect time to see you,” she smiled. “She is having a dinner party tonight and I was certain you would be ready for some company. Mother and Father will be there.”

“Tonight?”

Winnifred batted her eyes. “A good thing you are almost done with your repairs. I would have sent a messenger to let you know about the party, but I have missed you and wished to see you myself. Have you missed me, Louis?”

Louis' hand moved as if on its own accord. It slid across the table and stopped once it touched Winnifred's slender fingers and the jewels on them. “I have missed you very much, Winnifred.”

Harry felt the blood rush to his head as he wished he could escape this room without notice. _Is this what it was like when Louis saw that customer leave my room?_ Winnifred seemed so pleased with herself it made him feel ill.

But he was stuck where he was, for an hour, refilling Louis' cup when it was empty and listening to Winnifred prattle on about the Prince of Whales and his mistress, a cricket match where a duchess cheated after a wager, and a private soirée that turned into a disaster for the hostess after she spilled coffee down her dress. Harry could not understand how Louis seemed completely engaged and agreeable, when he himself wished to stick his fingers in his ears. _She asks nothing of him or about him; he is stranger to her and she does not even notice._

Finally the visit came to an end when Winnifred said, “The party will begin at seven o'clock.” She stood, leaving the tea she never touched. “I promised my aunt I would not be gone long, so I should be going. I will have a carriage arrive at six.” She turned her cheek to Louis. He stood and leaned over to kiss her cheek.

She smiled with an excited shrug of her shoulders. “Until tonight, Louis.”

“Goodbye, Winnifred.”

He walked her to the door and waved until her carriage was out of sight. When he came back into the room he met Harry's eyes. “I'm sorry that went on for so long. Did you want some tea?”

“No. And you needn't be sorry.”

Louis finished his tea. “I never thought she would come here. God, to think if she had come when we did not see...”

“At least she waited until the holiday was almost over.”

Louis nodded. “I will need to shave. Could you help me prepare a bath first?”

Harry made a face. “Why? You actually want to go to the party.”

“Of course not! But I must go now, I said I would.”

“You could lie and say you are sick when the driver returns.”

“That would bring _her_ back. No, I must go now.”

Harry attempted to keep the irritation from his voice. “We used all the bath salts when we shared one.”

“Oh. I can use some of the oil.” Louis sighed, seeing through Harry's attempt. “She did not ride for an hour because she missed me. She rode for an hour because she knew I could not refuse her invitation.”

“Of course.”

“I...I should probably go alone.”

“Alone?”

“Country dinner parties are not formal. Valets and maids rarely attend. Unless...unless you wish to wait in the carriage?”

“Wait in the carriage?” Harry shook his head. “No, I would rather stay here.”

“Please, do not be angry, Harry.”

“I am not angry.”

“It is not fair to blame Winnifred for this.”

“ _What?_ ”

“She does not know what there is between us, Harry. She is innocent in a way, you cannot blame her for that.”

Harry could hardly believe his ears. “Do you see a different person than I, Louis? Winnifred von Parma is hardly an innocent, and I would not hate a lady simply because she showed you affection.”

“No?”

Harry tensed. “No!”

“So it is just Winnifred in particular? What has she ever done to you? To anyone, for that matter!”

“She is...a prig! She looks down at everything and everyone, she believes herself better because she was born with money!”

“As was I. Am I a prig?”

“You do not look at people the way she does.”

“How? Is it the same way you look at her? I understand your frustration, Harry, believe me, I do, but she is undeserving of such judgment.”

Harry would have said more, but he kept his mouth shut. _I will not let Winnifred ruin these last few days._ “I should start pumping the water now, if you wish to take a bath.” In truth it would be easier to wash in the lake, but Harry refrained from making the suggestion, instead digging around for the bucket as Louis went upstairs.

 _He does not have the right of it, does he?_ Did Harry so hate Winnifred because she was the lady after Louis' heart? He did not know why Winnifred had earned such disdain, but in his life he had learned to read people and there was something about her he just did not like. _He will only be gone a few hours._ If time could not bend them, why did Harry suddenly feel defeated? He shook his head, taking no pity on Louis for the cold bath he was about to prepare.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Harry Stiles had been determined to be asleep when Louis returned. Or at least, he was ready to pretend he was. He left no candle on the first level and as the hours dragged on, he realized it would have likely gutted out by now.

How much longer would he be? _What if Louis decided to sleep at bored Aunt Cecily's house?_ Harry did not know the exact time, but it had to be at least two in the morning. Worry soon replaced his anger, as he wondered if there had been some accident. What if the carriage had overturned? _Do not be silly, there is no one out here and the country roads are not so dangerous._ Still, that logic did not stop him from gazing out the window into the darkness beyond.

Finally, the clatter of horse hooves could be heard. He rushed back to the bed, assuming a position of deep sleep and comfort. He heard the driver stop in front of the house and not long after, he heard the door.

He sat with a start when he heard a crash, as if an end table had been knocked over, and he felt slightly guilty for not leaving Louis any light. He closed his eyes again and waited for Louis to come up the stairs, but instead came the sound of a chair being bumped into and Harry gave up his plan, grabbing a match and lighting a candle. Cupping his hand around the flame, he went to the narrow stairway and listened. “Louis?”

“Harry?” It was only one word, but it was enough for Harry to know. He hurried down the stairs and held out the candle.

Louis Tomlins was standing in the middle of the room, staring at the overturned chair. Even in the dimness, it was apparent. Louis' hair was disheveled, his shirt and jacket askew, the button on his pants undone.

“Louis?”

“I did not wake you, did I?” The words came out in a slur.

Harry held the light towards an old clock on the mantle. It was four in the morning. He sat the candle in a holder. “No, you did not wake me.”

“I tried to be quiet.” Louis stumbled as he tried to return the chair to the proper position. Harry helped him get the chair upright. Louis turned away then. “Harry...I...I don't want you to see me like this.”

“How many times have you seen me at my worst?”

“There was a punch bowl...I did not realize until many cups in...how much sherry was in it...” Louis trailed off, leaning heavily against the chair. “I...am tired.”

Harry put Louis' arm around him and with great effort, got him safely up the stairs. He attempted to gently ease the other man against the bed but Louis ended up collapsing against it.

As Harry pulled off Louis pants and jacket he got a whiff of a rich aroma that was almost peppery. “Have you been _smoking_ , Louis?”

“I...I did...I had a few cigars. The other gentlemen were smoking.”

“The judge, the one who was the customer I met at the masquerade party, he always smelled of cigars.” Harry did not hide his distaste, but Louis in his current state did not hear it.

Instead he rolled over and buried his face into the pillow. “I want to forget this night ever happened.”

Harry leaned over him, feeling a sudden pang of dread. “Why, Louis? What happened?”

But Louis was already snoring lightly and he never heard the question.

 

 

 

 

It was late in the afternoon before Louis rolled out of bed. Harry had left him undisturbed to sleep off his woes, spending most of the day outside, but never going far in case Louis should wake.

Harry had tea ready for him, handing it over once he was certain Louis was stirring. Louis looked a pitiful thing as he accepted the cup of tea, gulping it down as if he had gone days without.

“Thank you,” Louis said, his voice raspy. “What time is it?”

“Near supper. Are you hungry?”

Louis' eyes widened. “You should have woken me! I do not want to waste all day sleeping when we are running out of time.”

Harry did not doubt the sincerity of his words, however there was something different in his voice he could not place. “We still have three more days.”

“If only. We have two, as my driver will be here mid-morning to pick us up and return us to London.”

“Oh.” Harry sat on the edge of the bed, watching as Louis rubbed his eyes.

“I must apologize for my behavior last night, Harry. It was most unseemly, and I am quite embarrassed.”

“Don't be. I was in no better state the night of the masquerade ball.”

“I shall never forget that night, the most beautiful one there. And you were very sweet despite being soused.” The blanket slid off his shoulders when he shifted. Harry could tell there was something more. “Louis, last night you said you wished to forget. Why?”

Louis grimaced as he stood, still looking fatigued from the night before. “I only wish I had not needed to go."

“Nothing happened?”

“It was another boring party with loud voices talking over the music. There were at least two hundred people there, people I know, most of them from the city.”

“What else?” Harry pressed.

“Nothing. I would like some more tea, my throat does feel a bit dry. It was not only a few cigars I smoked last night, but I am fairly certain I might have smoked a few cigarettes.”

“Cigarettes! That seems a most an undesirable habit.”

“More gentlemen are smoking of late, I have noticed.” Louis began digging through his clothes. “Did you want to eat supper now? Then we can go for a long walk, I feel as though I need it. Would you like to?”

 _I would like to know what happened last night that you wish to forget._ Harry nodded. “Yes, that would be nice. It hasn't rained today.”

Louis stopped then, his blue eyes burning through Harry's. “I love you so much, Harry. You are my heart. No matter what.”

“No matter what,” Harry repeated. Louis relaxed a bit then, as if he had successfully pushed away whatever memory he was trying to forget. They kissed, and Harry let himself forget as well.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was hard to imagine that only a few weeks ago Louis Tomlins and Harry Stiles had been laying in bed together in the most quaint little house, wrapped in blankets while they read their favorite passages from the books they found.

Now Harry was once again the dutiful servant, Louis his polite employer. There had been so much work upon his return, there was little time for them to be together. _I knew this, was prepared for this, but it does hurt all the same._ All of Louis' clothes from the holiday needed to be sent out and laundered and then pressed and organized, and Harry had to see to it all. All of Louis' cufflinks needed cleaning. A dozen new suits had been delivered the previous day, fresh for the new season, and Harry had spent the day hanging them carefully, wishing he could ask Alfred for assistance but knowing that would be some failure in the old servant's eyes.

Louis seemed very busy as well. He had spent the last few mornings meeting with his accountant, approving the necessary costs for the house. He was busy with some needed correspondences as well, so he spent his evenings drafting letters.

And worst of all, his family returned.

The house was busy and bustling again in preparation for season. A large Easter luncheon was in the works. Already there were balls that his sisters were planning to attend. A bishop from the church had come calling one morning, a man that drew Louis' mother and father to the sitting room together, and then he met with the older children. Harry had seen Louis only briefly since the visit and when questioned Louis said it was only a customary meeting.

Though their moments alone were rare, when such a time presented itself, Louis was most affectionate. If they stood together in a room with a closed door, always Louis would slip his arms around Harry's waist and rest his head on Harry's chest. He would ensure that Harry was not overworked, that no one was causing him distress, that all his needs were met, and that he was eating enough. Harry's answers were always the same; yes, he was busy, but he was fine, and made sure to eat. Louis would relax after hearing him out, but Harry could tell that Louis seemed preoccupied, though he would not say with what, no matter how many times Harry asked.

Finally Easter Sunday was upon them, and once the Tomlins' family returned from the church service they began readying for the luncheon they would be hosting. Louis seemed particularly agitated that morning, and was even more so as Harry helped him change into one of his suits for the luncheon. Once Harry helped him into a double-breasted coat of blue, Louis frowned at his reflection.

“It does not fall well, does it?”

Harry smoothed out the lines. “The vest underneath is a little snug.”

“Not just the vest.” Louis gave a tug on the coat, displeased at the pull between the two buttons together. “I have never had issue with my tailor before, not once. Did he mistake my measurements?”

Harry was not about to tell him it was not likely the tailor's err. “You look lovely, Louis. More than lovely. Beautiful.” It was the truth. Even now, with his cheeks flushed and tugging on his jacket like a boy in his first suit, Louis Tomlins was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

“You needn't feed me lies, Harry, I can see my own reflection. I mustn't look untidy today.”

Harry held out the gray Angola trousers Louis had selected. “Is there something special happening?”

Louis shook his head, lowering his eyes. “No. I mean, it is Easter Sunday and...I cannot very well wear a coat from last season.”

Harry hid his relief when he was able to fasten the trousers with only a little effort. “What about a coat you needn't fasten? Is that not the style?”

“Not for Easter dinner.” Louis adjusted his sleeves as he turned away from his reflection. “I think I shall wear my new buckle shoes.  At least those will fit.” Without a word, Harry helped slide the black leather shoes onto Louis' feet. He stood, and for a moment each searched the other's eyes.

“Harry. Can you imagine if we lived in the country house, year round?”

“Why can't we?” Harry asked, his tone serious.

Louis gave a little laugh. “My father would cut all ties with me! I would be shunned and he would likely take control of my estates, for there would be good reason to have me deemed mad and inept!”

“We do not need money.”

“When the roof would leak, when the candles were gone and we had no light, or we went hungry...we would need it then.”

“We could eat from the garden we planted! We could sleep in the dark and play in the day, we...we could bathe in the water from the leaky roof!”

Louis laughed outright then. “I daresay you mean that.”

“I do.” Harry smiled, though in truth if Louis wished to walk away from the madness of high society he would follow him without question.

Louis glanced at the clock. “I must get downstairs. I will have Alfred help me undress so you do not need to wait up.”

Harry kissed him then, dreaming of the days when they answered to no schedule, and they needed nothing but the other.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The next few weeks passed in swirls of colorful lace dresses, top hats and gloves, balls and theater and receptions and concerts. There was always chatter and squeals in the house, someone was always at the door, there were deliveries, lunches, and tea. If no one came calling, different member would go calling on others. Harry was very aware that most of the days when Louis left the house he was often going to Winnifred von Parma's residence. Her mother came to the Tomlins' house often enough and Harry wondered if this is what it had been like last season. So many days last year he had waited, bored at Hartwick House, thinking of Louis at all the events that were dictated by society. He reminded himself that being here was better than being there, and when he learned that the Tomlins were hosting an extravagant garden party, he told himself that in a way they would be at the party together, if not exclusively.

The night before the party Harry was stopped on the way to his room by the butler and, after determining that Louis Tomlins required nothing of him at the moment, enlisted him to help set some of the tables and chairs. Of late, Louis had Alfred helping him undress after dinners or social events. Louis claimed that it was one way for Harry to retire earlier rather than later, thus having more hours for sleep. Harry had been grateful, those brief hours of sleep priceless.

As he helped carry a table to the west side of the garden, which was big enough to accommodate several hundred people, he thought it likely that Louis would be getting into his nightshirt just now. Therefore, he was so surprised to catch a glimpse of Louis leaning inconspicuously against a Chanticleer pear tree, that he nearly dropped the table. The other servant did not notice as he marched back to the house, mumbling about the hundreds of chairs that still needed moving.

Harry stayed where he was, most obviously staring, as Louis took a long drag from a cigarette and blew the smoke into the air. The moment was so surreal, so unexpected, that for a moment Harry's heart swelled simply by the fact that this beautiful man was actually his. Louis' back was to him, but he would know that stance, that rear, _anywhere_. He wore a green velvet smoker's jacket that Harry had never seen, and he knew right away that Louis must be purposely hiding it. Harry glanced around, making sure no one was watching him, and walked most quietly towards the little spot Louis thought himself well-hidden.

“You called for me, Mr. Tomlins?” Harry said formally with a bow, startling Louis with a jolt.

“Harry!” He cried, forgetting himself. He glanced around quickly as he regained his composure. More quietly he said, “What are you doing here, Harry? I did not call for you.”

Harry acted as if confused. “You didn't? I was told to come out here and find you at once.”

“Who? Who said that?”

“Why do you look so guilty, Louis?”

Louis eyed the cigarette poised so delicately between his fingers. “I see you are trying to trick me.  No one sent you.”

“Whilst I thought my master most comfortable in his room I was called to help arrange the tables for your party tomorrow.” Harry raised an eyebrow. “This is why you have Alfred helping you undress at night?”

Louis nodded, looking like a schoolboy caught in the act of cheating on a test. “I...I have been enjoying a cigarette or two after dinner. I would never do it in the house, never around the girls.”

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“I could tell you did not like it.”

Harry wondered if that was why Louis had been acting distracted, but very much doubted it. “You are right. I do not like it.”

Louis frowned, snuffing the cigarette out on the trunk of the tree. “I will stop. I am not sure why I started.”

“You smoked at the party, that night with Winnifred.”

Louis noticeably tensed, for just a moment. “Yes...well, there is no need for you to be working all night. I will find John and tell him I have a sudden need of you.”

Once they were in Louis' room, Harry helped him out of his smoker's jacket. “Where have you been hiding this?”

Louis made a face. “If you must know, Alfred keeps it in an attic closet so that the smell does not get on anything else.”

“I'll be sure it gets there, then,” Harry sat it aside. With a familiarity that made his body tingle, Harry ran his fingers down Louis' back. He moved his hands to Louis' shoulders and massaged them. “You won't be needing Alfred to undress you anymore.”

“No.” Louis breathed. He moved quickly to the door and locked it. “There are servants everywhere, preparing for the party. We must be quiet.”

“Who said I wish to taste the smoke on your tongue?” Harry teased, proving his words to be false when he put his open mouth on Louis'.

Louis pulled back after a time, putting his fingers on his lips. “Is it bad? I could not stand it, if I knew I repulsed you, Harry.”

“Never.” Harry pulled him close. They had not laid together since leaving the country, and Harry ached for him. He felt a pull in his belly, as if no force in this world could ever pull them apart, not when they fit together so perfectly.

 

 

 

 

 

 

After the night with Louis Tomlins, Harry walked on clouds. As quiet as they could manage they had dared act out on their wants that, while in the light of day, seemed terribly reckless. _But so very worth it._ He stood at Louis' window, watching the chaos below. After lunch, Louis had excused himself, claiming that he needed do something for his sister, but Harry knew he had gone to the garden to sneak a cigarette. He was in too good a mood to give Louis a grief about it, not when Louis seemed more on edge than ever this morning. _What is going on in your head, Louis Tomlins?_ The constant assurance that all was well was hardly convincing. Harry wished that Louis would talk to him about it, but he could not force it out of him.

When Louis was ready for Harry to help him prepare for the party, he was visibly pale, his blue eyes so bright they appeared feverish.

“Are you unwell, Louis?” Harry asked, putting a hand to Louis' forehead, relieved that it was cool.

“I am fine. Why do you ask? Do I not look well?”

“I was just wondering.”

“There is always so much pressure with these silly parties,” Louis said quickly. He wore a pristine suite of gray with white stripes and lightweight, matching coat, a look that was quickly becoming one of Harry's favorites. “You know, Harry, tonight will be so very dull. There are tasks that I could assign, that would keep you away from it. Alfred can attend me if need be, but I doubt I will need even him. Remember how much you loathed the last party? Stay here, and as soon as I can sneak away tonight, we can see each other.”

“It would look odd, would it not, Louis, that I was the _only_ servant not downstairs?”

“Yes, I suppose you are right. I should let you ready yourself, then.”

The dismissal was abrupt, but Harry said nothing more. Louis glanced back at him before Harry went to the door, and there was something so sad, so pained, in those blue eyes, that Harry felt his heart ache. But just as quick, Louis turned away and Harry closed the door.

 

 

 

 

Shifting on his feet so that he could relieve some of the tension in his back, Harry wondered why he did not pounce on Louis' invitation to miss the party. It was had been exciting at first, watching the people arrive in an array of colors, fabrics and laces. Now the servants were standing idly in a little room adjacent to the garden, in case they were needed. Upon Louis Tomlins' entrance, with a dainty Winnifred on his arm, Harry was reminded again that he was the most beautiful one in the room. He was all smiles, moving gracefully among the groups, listening politely and laughing on cue, but it was not Louis. Harry could not forget the pain he had seen in those eyes, and he longed to vanquish Louis of his demons, whatever they were. _I complain so much of serving in this house, but I have never been asked to walk with a girl on my arm and present myself as a perfect son, a perfect gentleman, keeping myself hidden from everyone I knew._ Harry told himself that he would refrain from complaining about polishing shoes this day forward.

The party seemed to be a success from where he stood, he heard no complaint from the butler, and no doubt there was some scandal or gossip entertaining the guests. He had caught the briefest glimpse of the Tomlins' family as they arrived, but had not seen them since.

Two maids began whispering and were most ferociously hushed. Harry had to bite his lip to keep from laughing at the ridiculousness of it. The brandy and wine was flowing in the garden, the guests were audibly tipsy, yet two whispering maids were the ones out of line.

The clinking of a glass silenced them all, stopping the string quartet mid-song. Harry stood on his tip-toes to better see through the window into the garden, and saw that it was George Tomlins who had stopped the party to speak.

“I would like to thank you all for joining us tonight. My wife and I, thank you. I am not one for long speeches or dragging out announcements, so I will make this quick, as I know most of you are ready to toast.”

Harry could not say why he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Perhaps it was when he glimpsed Louis, blue eyes wide, bewildered, alone in a sea of people who were all smiling and readying their glasses. Harry knew then why Louis had been acting so strangely, why he seemed so distracted.

He tasted bile in his throat when he heard the words he knew were coming.

“I would like to announce the engagement of my son, Louis, and Winnifred von Parma, who already feels like a member of our family.”

The cheers seemed to rattle the house. Perhaps it was the sudden ringing in his head. Harry clasped his hand over his mouth.

“Mr. Fitch...I am so sorry...I am going to be sick!”

The butler knew that Louis Tomlins had no complaint of Harry, that only one incident had occurred during his time here, and the business with the maid was long over, and knew also that Louis trusted his valet enough to allow him on a trip, so he would resist his first reaction to admonish such behavior, and instead hurried Harry to the kitchen where he found a trash bin.

Harry bent over and vomited. Once the butler was assured that Harry would make no mess, he excused himself to return to his place and to inform Alfred that he should see to any of Mr. Tomlins' needs while Harry was indisposed.  "You should go on to your bed, I cannot have a household of sick servants."

Alone in the kitchen, still hearing the cheers and congratulations outside in the garden, Harry leaned against the trash bin and stared at the door. He had walked through this kitchen on his first day. _I could walk out right now._ He moaned as his stomach turned once more. _Where would I go?_ Charlie's, Hartwick House? _I could go back to that life, couldn't I?_ He struggled to his feet. _He has known since the party in the country. Why did he not tell me? Did he think I would not find out? Did he think that he would get engaged and marry her, and I would never know?_

The door was just before him. What would happen, if he walked through it? _It is not as though I would need a reference, it is not as though I would seek employment as a valet anywhere else._ Harry touched the door handle. _I told him I would love him no matter what._ Harry felt tears fall down his cheeks. It was true. He would love him no matter what. But could he share Louis' bed if he had a wife? _I am a whore, I did not mind sharing my bed with married customers._ Though that was not the same, he did not love them. He loved Louis Tomlins. And he could not do this. He could not share him with her.

There were only a few belongings in his room. _Nothing worth going back for._ Harry twisted the knob and opened the door, moving quietly into the night.

 


End file.
